I Survived Cloverfield
by Seribaba
Summary: I was once the happiest person in Manhattan. Until...what do they call it now?..."case designate Cloverfield"...
1. Prelude

**Author's Notes:**

This story contains description of a lesbian relationship. Nothing graphic, but if anyone is bothered by reading a story about a happy female couple, then it might be best to go elsewhere. Also, there will be sporadic swearing.

Several parallels to the movie will be seen throughout this story. However, the main characters are both OCs. None of the movie characters have bigger than cameo roles.

* * *

Welcome.

If you are in any sort of contact to the outside world (meaning, you aren't living in a cave or under a rock), then you are aware that Manhattan isn't there anymore. You see the footage, you hear the stories from those that managed to get out of the city. . .but none of that tells what really happened.

You'll hear stories of "heroes", people who "struggled to save their friends and family and yet miraculously made it out alive and unharmed". I am here to tell you that all of that is bull. Oh, sure, there were _some_ people who tried to save others. The NYPD, the military. . .I'd be dead now if it wasn't for them. But the average Joe. . .don't believe a word of it. Because when it came right down to it, it was everyone for themselves. People were running by while others screamed for help, leaving them to be trampled and blown up and eaten.

The government is calling the whole thing "case designate Cloverfield". Officials are reporting that there's no real way to know just how many died. And nobody's is saying for certain whether or not that. . . that thing was actually destroyed, or where it came from. I don't care about any of that. . .not anymore.

I am here now to tell the truth to anyone who wants to listen. I lost the love of my life that night. But for her, I will keep going. I will tell our story, the real story. If even half of those people who are calling themselves heroes actually did what they claimed to have done, my Jesse would still be alive.

My name is Sheba Lewis. And I survived Cloverfield.


	2. It all started happily enough

May 22. I had been looking forward to that day for months. Jesse's 25th birthday. And I had every part of it planned.

Jesse was a very quiet, unassuming person. But she was also meticulously detailed and observant. If there was one thing you couldn't do around her, it was keep a secret. Leave any hint of your intentions lying around, and she'll notice it and figure it out. That is why I never did any of my planning and organizing at the apartment. Pretending to be working on a new article, I spent hours camped out at an internet cafe in Midtown, making phone calls and setting up reservations.

I didn't do all of the planning by myself, though. Jesse's uncle, the lawyer who owns the firm she works for, gave me a lot of help, both financially and connection-wise. He loves Jesse, so I knew from the beginning that he'd be willing to give me a hand. I think he liked me, too. At least he understood and accepted the relationship we had.

I mean, how could he not? He'd been with his partner since the early 80s.

Anyway, I went to bed on the night of the 21st completely assured that everything was planned out and ready to go, and that Jesse had no real idea what was coming. Yes, by that time she had started suspecting that I was planning something, but not as big as what it was. Her uncle had provided a limo, and reservations at Cafe Des Artistes (Jesse's favorite restaurant in the Upper West Side). I had arranged a picnic breakfast by the Lake in Central Park, a guided tour of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and bought tickets to a performance at the Met. An entire day together, with perhaps some time for spur-of-the-moment shopping in the afternoon.

That morning, I woke up before dawn. My alarm clock was not set to go off for another three hours, but despite several attempts, I was too excited to go back to sleep. Jesse had her back to me, so it was not difficult to slip out of bed and head into the living room.

I loved that apartment. It was definitely high-class real-estate, a beautiful flat on the 35th floor of the Time Warner Building. Outside the broad, silk-curtained windows, there was a spectacular view of Central Park and uptown Manhattan. Cars still lined bumper-to-bumper in the streets below, and had I opened the window, I would have heard the hum of running engines and honking horns. But I did not. I didn't want the sounds to disturb Jesse.

I waited out the hours by playing Internet checkers and watching the early morning news. Finally, right after sunrise, I heard movement coming from the bedroom. Excitement flooded through me as I set my laptop aside and stood. A small wrapped present from her parents sat on the kitchen counter, so I grabbed it on the way. Jesse was standing in the bathroom brushing her long auburn hair when I entered. She glanced sideways at me as I approached, her beautiful face breaking into a smile.

"Good morning," she said. "Are you planning on getting more work on that article done today?"

I smiled and rolled my eyes. Jesse set her brush down and turned around to face me.

"My Uncle's chauffer wants you to call him back," she said slyly. "He wants to confirm his arrival time."

My eyes went wide. I tried to think fast.

"And how. . .did you get this message?" I asked.

Jesse pointed to my cell phone, which was lying on my bedside table. Rolling my eyes again and gritting my teeth, I handed the present to Jesse and grabbed my cell phone.

"I'll be back," I said.

I went up to the roof to make the call. And by the time I was finished reminding him his arrival time--and making him repeat it back to me several times over--and had gone back down to the apartment, Jesse was dressed and sitting at the kitchen bar. She had opened the present from her parents.

"Nice," I said, examining the delicate gold watch.

Jesse smiled at me.

"So, what _do_ you have planned for today?"

Now it was my turn to smile.

"I was thinking maybe starting with breakfast in Central Park," I said. "Come on."

Jesse laughed. Together, we headed down into the lobby. There was a crowd of people milling around, preparing to head off to work or elsewhere. A few were looking out the doorway. As we neared, I heard a bit of what they were saying.

"I've never seen one that decked up before."

"You can privately hire some of them."

Jesse glanced back at me, a confused look on her face. I motioned for her to keep going. She shrugged, stepped out through the doors, and froze in her tracks.

"Pedro!"

Pedro was Jesse's favorite Central Park carriage driver. He had a white four-wheeled carriage and a beautiful plump white horse. I had never been able to figure out what breed it was, but it was a very gentle beast. The first time we walked in Central Park, we met Pedro. He took us on a long, wonderful ride, telling us stories about the city. Jesse's loved him ever since. He even let her give the horse a new name: Mayflower.

I had not forgotten Pedro in the birthday plans. His carriage was waiting for us on the curb, decorated with flowers and ribbons. Mayflower had a long feather on his halter between his ears. Pedro stood waiting for us, wearing a white bowtie over his work clothes.

"Happy birthday, Miss Jesse!" he called happily as we approached.

Jesse beamed at him as he helped her, and then me, into the carriage. As he started towards Central Park, and the picnic breakfast awaiting us, I felt Jesse grip my hand.

"Happy birthday," I said to her. The smile she returned was the most beautiful I have ever seen her before.

Little did I know that I would never see her so radiant again.


	3. There's something out there

Jesse and I did not return until long after midnight, but we were still looking for a few more things to do before turning in. We got out of her uncle's limo, said good-bye to the driver, and then I immediately started urging her to go to a bar with me.

"It's right down the street," I said, giving her arm a gentle tug.

"I am not going to a bar in this!" Jesse protested, but she was laughing as she gestured to her fancy blue silk dress and high heels.

"Okay," I said, also laughing. "We'll go upstairs and change first."

Jesse and I made our way back inside--even this late at night, the lobby was still full of people--and towards the elevators. We weren't paying attention to much of anything around us, at least not until we stepped into the elevator. Someone else came in behind us.

"Beth?" Jesse asked, turning my attention around. "Hey, Beth. What's wrong?"

Beth McIntyre lived a few floors above us. We didn't know her much beyond the ocassional passing in the hallway and a few friendly chats. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and her eyes were red. In response to Jesse's questions, she shook her head and turned away, taking a deep breath.

"Number 39," she said softly.

I pressed her floor number and endured an uneasy silence as the elevator started carrying us upward. Jesse was still gazing at her in concern.

"Beth, Sheba and I are going out to a bar," she offered after a few floors. "Want to come along?"

For several more floors, Beth stood silent, staring at the glossy wood side of the elevator. Finally, looking at us through the reflection, she shook her head again.

"No, thank you," she said.

And by the tone of her voice, I knew there would be no getting any explanation from her. After all, we didn't know her well enough to press the point. Jesse sidled a little closer to my side, and we exchanged a concerned look.

It was only when the elevator had reached our floor and we had stepped out that Beth spoke again.

"Um. . .happy birthday, Jesse."

That had caught us by surprise. Jesse quickly turned around, but by then the doors had shut again, and the elevator was gone. She sighed heavily and turned back to me.

"Should we go after her?" she asked me, frowning.

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "Beth will be alright. She must have had a fight with her boyfriend. . .what was his name? Rob?"

"I think they broke up," Jesse stated.

I blinked in slight surprise.

"Oh," was all I could think of to say.

When we got back inside our apartment, I could tell Jesse was starting to lose the desire to leave again. When I went into our room to change into more casual clothes, she did not follow me. She sat down in the living room and turned on the TV, but that late at night there wasn't anything of any real interest on. I stuck my head out to watch as she gave up on a floor-cleaner infomercial and turned the TV off again.

I knew she wasn't in a happy mood anymore--she was such a caring person; I knew she was thinking about Beth--so I decided not to push her to go out again. I quietly walked to the front door and locked it.

"I thought we were going to a bar," came her voice, which made me jump slightly.

I turned around and offered her a smile, trying to get one in return. But Jesse only gave me a confused look.

"I thought you had to get changed first," I said pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

That made Jesse smile. She stood and approached me, and we shared a tender kiss and an embrace. When we separated, she gave me another smile, seemingly to reassure me that the encounter with Beth had not completely spoiled her good mood. She walked into the bedroom, and coyly shut the door behind her when I moved to follow.

"Tease," I said, tapping the door.

"Get distracted and we'll never get to that bar," came Jesse's muffled reply.

The temperature had risen a bit when we made it back down to the street fifteen minutes later. But the noise and the activity hadn't lessened in the slightest. I led Jesse through the milling crowd and down 8th Avenue. The bar was a small place, tucked up between an office building and a clothing retailer on West 55th Street. But it tailored mostly to a crowd of our age-range, and had a TV and bar setup that was perfect for those people looking for a comfortable place to watch a game.

There was only a handful of people at the bar when we got there, and CNN was playing on the TV above the bartender. Jesse ordered Corona off the tap, and I took a double shot of Patron. Jesse cast me a sideways glance and chuckled as I took a sip and winced slightly.

"What?" I asked, grinning. "You get used to it."

Jesse seemed about ready to say something, but before she could get a word out, a deep booming sound echoed from outside. Everyone, including Jesse and me, jumped and cried out as the power flickered. I had spilled my drink in the process, so I was soon distracted by the tequila soaking into my jeans. People were standing at the doorway, looking for the source of the noise. Others were badgering the bartender to turn the TV to a local channel. I stood up, gripping Jesse's shoulder.

"Jesse, I need to clean this up," I said. "Keep an eye on that TV. I'll be right back."

Jesse nodded, her face slightly pale. I turned and headed to the bathrooms in the back, trying to hide my own concern from my face. Jesse and I had not moved to Manhattan until after 9/11, but I remember what Washington D.C. was like that day. If it was another terrorist attack. . .

I tried not to think about that prospect as I locked myself into the single ladies' bathroom and stripped off my jeans. The commotion from outside was still audible, but there were no sirens or warnings blaring. I focused my attention on dabbing up as much of the tequila as I could. Some water from the sink spilled onto the floor, but I ignored the mess.

Suddenly, the entire building shook, a massive explosion-like sound echoing, deafening even in the enclosed bathroom. I shrieked in fright, slipping on the small puddle I had made and sprawling hard onto the linoleum floor. I was unhurt, but for a moment I lay stunned. The light hanging above flickered, swinging back and forth. I was breathless with shock.

"What the hell is going on?!" I screamed as I scrambled to my feet and clumsily pulled my jeans back on.

Suddenly, there was a pounding against the bathroom door.

"Sheba!!"

I raced to the door and ripped it open. Jesse tumbled inside, the bar behind her filled with dust and smoke. I yelled out in shock, but before I could do anything more, Jesse had slammed the door shut and slumped against it. There were tearstreaks down her dusty cheeks. I grabbed her, and she clung to me, sobbing.

"There's something out there!" she screamed.

"It's okay," I replied, trying to keep the panic from my voice as I tightened my grip around her. "Everything's going to be okay."

"No!" she sobbed. "There's people running everywhere. The Statue of Liberty's been destroyed! There was an explosion downtown. . .the news said the Woolworth Building collapsed!"

"Okay, okay!" I said again, gently lifting Jesse to her feet. "Look, the power's still on. Let's go back out and see what the TV is saying."

Jesse seemed terrified at the prospect of going back out, but she followed me as I unlocked the door and stepped out into the bar. She did not release my arm as we moved forward. The dust had settled somewhat, and about seven people were crowded around the TV, staring as if hypnotized. The newscaster looked frazzled, speaking in a stuttering voice and shuffling around the new reports being constantly handed to her.

"Officials have announced a mandatory evacuation of lower Manhattan in light of the current events," the newscaster was saying. "Most evacuees are being directed towards the Brooklyn Bridge. Although the volume is very heavy for both pedestrian and vehicle traffic, it remains orderly, and there are no reports of. . ."

I didn't get to hear anything else the newscaster was saying. At that moment, a loud explosion shook the bar, and the electricity cut off. In the middle of a helicopter's view of the overcrowded Brooklyn Bridge, the TV cut off, and the room was cast into darkness. Everyone around me let out screams of terror, including Jesse, but I could not utter a sound. Mostly because Jesse had thrown her arms around my neck in her panic.

Another deep rumble echoed from outside, the shaking of the earth followed by the abrupt fall of several ceiling panels. Instantly there was a rush towards the door. Jesse was buffeted to one side, her iron grip dragging me with her. I was forced to pry myself free of her arms.

"It'll be okay, Jesse!" I shouted to her over the commotion as I took her by the hand and led her into the crowd.

"What's going on?!" she shrieked in reply, her voice full of panic. My own heart was beating as though desperate to break free of my chest. "Sheba, I'm scared!"

We had made it out onto the street. And despite my terror, I was momentarily stunned at the destruction and chaos all around us. Smoke filled the air above the skyscrapers, through which flashed brilliant white and orange light...spotlights and fire. Dust and small debris settled upon the street and sidewalks, kicked aside by the stampeding people. As a group rushed past us, I dragged Jesse into the street and wrapped my arm protectively around her waist.

"Sheba, I'm scared," Jesse repeated shakingly. "I want to go home."

"Okay," I replied, unable to think of anything else to do.

My legs were shaking as I walked with Jesse back towards 8th Avenue. The sounds were getting louder, the air filling with booms, shouts, and screams that seemed to be coming from everywhere. We had broken into a full run by the time we reached the intersection of 55th Street and 8th Avenue. Even more people were running in panic here, the street lined with crashed and abandoned cars. Jesse was clinging to me with all her might, but though her body was shaking with her sobs, I could not hear her over the din. I looked around frantically, trying to see what everyone was running from.

A massive metallic shriek echoed from up the street. Followed by rumbling crashes. Jesse and I stood stunned as, for the first time, we saw..._it. _


	4. It can't get any worse

When I had first come to Manhattan with Jesse, I had been astounded by the sheer size of the city's population and lack of space of it all. My experience with D.C. traffic was nothing compared to Manhattan at midday. And the flow of pedestrians had been non-stop, an ocean of faces passing at every hour of the day and night. In a strange way, the same thing had been happening at that moment. But everyone had been moving in one direction. And everyone had been drowning in the panic. Voices and honking horns had taken on a terrible and terrifying new tone.

Jesse started screaming along with everyone else. But I had been stricken silent.

At first, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There was simply no way, _no way_, that something that big and alive could exist. All swinging limbs and whipping tail, easily reaching to the roofs of the skyscrapers that in a normal world towered over everything. Its mouth was opened impossibly wide--it could have swallowed a 747 whole--and from it boomed the shrieking metallic roar that made the glass in the countless windows tremble and shatter. Spotlights from above and below were trained on it, making it even more visible. Not that it needed any help.

I was so absolutely mesmerized by its sheer size that it took me over a minute to realize it was starting to move down 8th Avenue, straight towards us. Jesse shrieked even louder and yanked my arm.

"Run, Sheba!!" she screamed.

For a few steps, Jesse was dragging me along while I reoriented myself with reality. Then, my own fear overwhelmed me. My hand was iron-tight on Jesse's as I took the lead, and the two of us were running full-tilt down one side of the street, swerving only to avoid the mess of cars and people.

"We can't outrun it!" I gasped as we were approaching the intersection of West 54th Street. "This way!"

I don't know exactly what I was thinking. But something in the back of my head was saying that if it was following us, we could not be on the same street.

The path down 54th Street was a bit less crowded, though several people behind us seemed to follow our example and turned as we did. I could hear Jesse starting to gasp for breath, but we did not slow down. We had reached Broadway before it finally occurred to me that the footsteps and the screams of the creature were fading away.

"Jesse!" I shouted to her over the noise of the people around us. "Jesse, I think it's gone now. I don't hear its footsteps anymore."

I gently pulled her towards the side of a building, out of the flow of the main traffic, and put my arms around her. Jesse clung to me, shaking and sobbing into my shoulder.

"What was that?" she choked after a few minutes, when she regained a bit of composure. All color had drained from her beautiful face. "It was...it was..."

"Impossible," I replied, biting my lip. Now that I was thinking about it, it was getting harder and harder to keep myself calm. "I know."

Some microscopic semblance of calm was starting to settle around us. People were no longer stampeding past, but walking or jogging by, or otherwise gathering in small groups to figure out--as Jesse and I were--what we had just seen.

"Where did it go?" I heard someone ask nearby.

"It went down 57th Street," someone else replied. "Did'ya see how big it was? Ripped a hole right into the side of that building..."

I didn't pay attention to anything else that was being said, because just then, Jesse pulled away from my embrace and started tugging on me again.

"I want to go home," she said. "Come on, Sheba."

"Jesse, I think we should get out of Manhattan," I protested. "That thing..."

But the look on her face was desperate. And she was so ghostly pale with fear that I couldn't bring myself to argue anymore.

We started walking up Broadway, but it was slow going. We were moving against the traffic, and the further we went the more damage there was to avoid. Dust and cars on fire and chunks of buildings. Somewhere overhead a helicopter thundered past, but the air was still too thick to see it. As we crossed the intersection of Broadway and 56th Street a few cop cars and a fire engine zoomed by, sirens blazing.

The crowd had thinned by the time we reached Broadway and 57th Street. And once again, Jesse and I froze in our tracks. If I had thought the damage I had seen before was bad, it was nothing to what 57th Street looked like. Fire blazed in the upper stories of the building at the far left corner, and the remnants of half the roof the same building blocked the way between Broadway and 8th Avenue. A traffic jam of crashed cars filled most of the intersection, two of which were burning. People were wandering around dazed, shellshocked.

A man staggered past us, covered in dust and blood. He paused when he saw us looking at him.

"What happened?" Jesse breathed, her eyes wide.

The man did not reply. He stared at Jesse a moment longer, and then walked away, his expression remaining blank and dumbfounded. I stared after him, but Jesse seemed eager to keep going.

"We're not far," she said. "Columbus Circle is right there."

But something else had caught my eye now. Partway down the block a glass-fronted store flickered with TV screens. A handful of people had gathered around them. I gripped Jesse's hand more tightly and gently pulled her towards the group.

"Sheba!" she protested.

"Just one minute, Jesse," I replied. "I want to see where it went."

A few people made room for us as we approached. I gently pushed Jesse to make her stand in front of me, and I looked over her shoulder. Though none of us could hear sound, a local news station was broadcasting the extensive damage.

"All the routes out of the city are jammed," someone in the group said, sounding frustrated. "How the hell do they expect us to evacuate?"

"They called in the military," someone else replied. "Haven't you heard the helicopters?"

"And what's the military gonna do? Regular guns won't do jack to that thing, and what makes you think they'll get permission to start using missiles and bombs when it's waltzing through Manhattan?"

"They're already using tanks! They just broadcasted them firing tanks!"

"That still doesn't help us! Unless you plan to hitch a ride on the next tank you see."

"What we need to do is get out of here," someone new piped up. "There are docks at the end of 57th Street. If we just keep going west..."

"There's no way in hell I'm going in the same direction that _thing_ did!"

"Where is it now?" Jesse abruptly shouted out, turning to face the arguing people.

Everyone turned to face us. The one that had argued about the military, a big beefy man wearing a shirt that was ripped across the back, waved to the TVs on the other side of the glass pane.

"Disappeared into the harbor," he replied gruffly. "They don't know where it is now."

"If it's in the harbor, then it isn't here," I said, more to Jesse than to anyone else. "We're safe."

"Then let's go back to the apartment," Jesse insisted.

"Where do you two live?" another man asked, smaller than the first and wearing crooked glasses with a crack across one lens.

"Time Warner Building," I replied.

"Don't bother," the beefy man said. "I just came from Columbus Circle. Police ordered everyone to evacuate. One of the towers was knocked over."

Jesse gasped and started shaking again. I could tell she was going to faint if I didn't get her to calm down.

"Then we're getting out of here," I said. "We can't go west, so what about east?" I thought for a moment, trying to remember what other possible escape route there was. "The 59th Street Bridge?"

"Completely jammed," someone from the back reported.

"What about north?" the man with the glasses asked. "Towards the Bronx."

"Why bother walking so far?" a woman asked. I recognized her voice as the one who had defended the military. "The military will be passing by soon enough. We should find a place to bunker down and wait."

A murmur filtered through the small crowd. A few more people had joined us now, attracted by the relative calmness of our gathering. The man with the glasses seemed the most nervous.

"What if it comes back?" he asked the woman. "Where can we possibly hide? I'm not going back inside any of these buildings."

"Did anyone see it break through the street?" the woman retorted. She sounded rather confident. "We should be plenty safe underground. The 57th Street and 7th Avenue subway station is right down there."

"And how will we know who or what's coming if we're huddled in a subway station?" the beefy man asked.

"I can get newsfeed on my Blackberry," one of the new arrivals announced.

"And we can take turns keeping watch at the entrance," the confident woman added.

"Sounds like a plan to me," I said, trying to infuse some of the woman's confidence into my own voice, but failing. Jesse still could not stop shaking. "But I'd still feel better if we knew exactly where it was."

"The Brooklyn Bridge," Jesse said flatly.

Once again, everyone turned. But this time, it was back towards the TVs. Jesse had been the only one watching them during the discussion of what to do. My mouth fell open in shock as the overhead shot of the Brooklyn Bridge flashed. Over and over again, they were rewinding the footage of the massive grey object rising out of the water and smashing down.

"Alright people," the beefy man announced abruptly. "Let's go."

I had to hook my arm around Jesse's waist to pull her away from the TV screens. She barely took five steps with me before her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the ground in a dead faint, nearly dragging me down with her.

"Jesse!" I screamed.

"Is she hurt?" the man with the glasses asked, approaching Jesse's other side.

"Looks like she fainted," someone above me stated.

I was trying to lift Jesse into my arms. But even though she was a relatively small person, I was not strong enough to lift her.

"It's okay," the beefy man said suddenly. "I've got her."

The man approached and leaned down, grasping Jesse around the waist and shoulders and heaving her up over one shoulder. I scowled at the rough way the man held her, but the other patted my shoulder gently.

"She'll be alright," he assured.

"We all will be," the confident woman called from the front. "It can't get any worse than this. The military will be here soon."

"It can't get any worse than this," I repeated under my breath. The man with the glasses did not remove his hand from my shoulder, but I didn't care at that moment. I was too busy focusing on Jesse's limp form draped over the man's shoulder in front of me. "It can't get any worse..."


	5. I think I saw something move

Jesse came around as we reached the subway entrance. She was very disoriented, however, and very nearly kicked the man in a very sensitive place as she struggled to be set back down on her feet. She was still very weak in the knees, so I had to put one of her arms around my shoulders and help her down the concrete stairs.

The station was deserted, but save for dust and bits of rubble at the base of the stairs, it was untouched. The lights still shone down brightly, illuminating the advertisement posters hanging upon the dull grey walls. An empty train sat upon the tracks, but whatever power that ran it was not working. I could not see the seats through the dark windows, only our reflections in the glass.

The man with the glasses had remained beside me, moving around to take Jesse's other arm as we moved through the turnstiles. Jesse was not as nervous of him as she was of the burly man, and allowed him to grip her arm without protest. Together, the two of us helped her to a bench in the middle of the platform.

"Lay down, Jesse," I said gently to her. "Come on. Put your head on my lap."

I sat down cross-legged on the bench, and Jesse laid down next to me. I sighed as her beautiful head settled onto my crossed legs. I gently brushed a few stray hairs out of her face.

"How are you feeling?" I asked softly.

"I'm so scared," she whispered back. "Sheba...are you sure we're going to be okay?"

"Absolutely," I replied. What else could I possibly say? "But I'm probably going to be fired now. This will be the third time I've missed a deadline."

Jesse's responding laugh sounded more like a half-strangled choke, but my comment did what I wanted it to. She seemed to relax a little more.

With Jesse calming down, I turned my attention to the others milling around. There were about twenty in total. The one with the Blackberry was standing next to the exit, fiddling with it. Two girls hovered at his shoulders. The burly man was leaning against the wall, his eyes on the confident woman who led us here, who looked like she was counting heads. The man with the glasses stood next to a pillar beside Jesse and me. Everyone else was wandering around. A few people were looking in the train.

It was about ten minutes before anyone spoke.

"Ugh," came the voice of the Blackberry holder. He looked like a college student. "I can't get a good signal down here. I'll have to go up to keep an eye on the news."

"I'll come with you," the burly man said, stepping forward. "There's some vending machines next door, and I'm starving."

"Do you have enough change?" the man with the glasses asked, digging in his pocket. "I'm a bit hungry, too."

"Screw the change," the burly man replied with a gruff laugh. "The whole city's in hell. Ain't nobody gonna mind a few busted vending machines."

"Okay, then," the confident woman said. "I'll stay by the exit. One of you shout down to me if you find out anything, or see anything."

The burly man gave the woman a lazy salute, and followed the teenager with the Blackberry back up to the street. Once they were gone, the woman turned back around.

"Well," she said. "Since we're going to be here for a while, why don't we introduce ourselves?"

Everyone cooperated, announcing their names as the woman looked at them. I barely absorbed any of them. The only ones I did remember were the Blackberry guy and the two girls with him--the guy was Daniel, and the girls were Jennifer and Annie, his girlfriend and her sister--the man with the glasses was Tim, and the confident woman was Sarah. She turned to Jesse and me last.

"I'm Sheba," I said. "And this is Jesse."

A few people gave me curious glances at the mention of my name, but nobody commented on it. Jesse sighed and looked up at me. And then suddenly, her expression turned to worry.

"What about Beth?" she asked. "What if she was still in her apartment?"

"Jesse, you heard what that man said," I replied quickly. The last thing I wanted was to have her get worked up again over a casual friend. "They evacuated everyone there. I'm sure Beth is perfectly fine."

Jesse sighed again and closed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. I leaned over and gave her a very gentle kiss on the bridge of her nose, and she smiled slightly.

"I'm glad you're here, Sheba," she whispered. "I know you'll take care of me."

"Always," I replied.

Jesse and I did not speak again for a very long while after that. I kept my eyes on her, having no desire to make conversation with anyone else. For a little while, it seemed as though Tim wanted to get our attention, but he eventually gave up and wandered over to Sarah.

About an hour passed before I had to move again. Both my legs had fallen asleep. Jesse seemed about ready to nod off, but she sat up for me when I nudged her. I untangled my legs and winced as I settled them onto the floor, where the pins and needles instantly started through them.

It was while I was waiting for the pins and needles to fade that Daniel and the burly man reappeared. Both carried armfuls of vending machine items, which they set on the floor in the middle of the station. The burly man tossed Jesse a bottle of water, which to my surprise she managed to catch.

"You still look pale," he commented as Jesse opened the bottle and took a long drink.

"She always looks like that," I replied.

"Any news?" Sarah asked eagerly. "See anything?"

"The creature's rampaging through lower and midtown Manhattan," Daniel reported. "I can't get anything too detailed, but the military is fighting it. And they've taken over the evacuations."

"Excellent!" Sarah smiled. "We should be seeing them in no time."

But "no time" turned out to be "no time soon." Though Daniel kept a close eye on his Blackberry, and the burly man (who had finally introduced himself as Joe) switched off with others periodically to watch the streets, nothing of any interest happened or was heard. Every now and then, there was a distant explosion, and once or twice something that sounded like the metallic scream I had heard before seeing the creature the first time, but right above us it remained silent.

I don't really know how much time we spent down in that subway station. Jesse had her brand new watch, but neither of us looked at it. The only thing we really did in that time was move from the bench to inside the train, where the seats were slightly more comfortable. A few more people followed us, but most were too nervous to be so far away from the only source of info we had.

And so the hours passed, with only murmured conversation breaking the silence. Jesse managed to fall asleep, but I couldn't get myself to relax that much. I just stared out through the dirty train window at the equally dirty and dark wall on the other side of the train. There was only about a foot clearance between the train and the tunnel wall.

A flash of movement at the very top of the window startled me. I jerked upright, disturbing Jesse and making her do the same. She stared at me, bleary-eyed and bewildered.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I saw something," I responded, standing. There was the barest hint of light out of the dark window at the very top. I knew I hadn't seen a reflection. "I think it's on top of the train."

"What?" Jesse asked breathlessly.

"Stay here," I instructed as I moved past her and towards the open train door. I gestured to her to stay when she tried to follow. "I'll be right back."

Several people turned to stare at me as I stepped out of the train and faded several steps backwards, my eyes glued to where I had seen the movement. The shadows cast by the light were very unhelpful. I couldn't see anything there. Plus, I was too short to look directly over the top.

"Uh...Joe?" I called, turning around. Joe was leaning against the other wall again, puffing on a cigarette. "Joe, I think I saw something move on top of the train."

That got everyone's attention. Joe flicked the cigarette away and approached me, a firm look on his face. Everyone else faded back a bit, their eyes widening in nervousness. Near the exit, Sarah bit her lip.

"Could you give me a boost?" I asked Joe when he was near enough, gesturing to the train.

Joe nodded wordlessly and gripped me around the waist. I was not the lightest of persons, but he lifted me with seeming ease and secured his arms around my legs as I grabbed the top of the train. From here, I had a perfect view of the entire length of the top of the train. I saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

"Anything?" I heard Tim call.

"No," I replied, cursing underneath my breath. "Nothing."

Joe set me back down. I sighed and pounded the side of the train in irritation.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I guess I was seeing things."

"That's a relief," Sarah called. "What with those other little things running around now."

I turned slowly to stare at Sarah, the horrible feeling that I had missed something starting to settle in the pit of my stomach.

"What little things?" I demanded.

"Apparently people are seeing little crab-things falling off the monster," Sarah replied. "At least, that's what Daniel said was on his Blackberry."

I would have said more, but at that moment, two things happened at the same time. A crash echoed from the other side of the train, and Jesse let out an ear-piercing scream.

I flung myself back into the train, only to be immediately rammed to one side as people ran out past me, yelling in terror. Pain rippled up my side where a body part had hit me, but my head was twisting to where Jesse was. She was pressed up against the back of the seat where I had left her, screaming as she stared up at the creature that was trying to wriggle through a hole in the train window above her.

I cannot accurately describe it. It had the legs of a crab, which were all wriggling frantically, an elongated head filled with sharp teeth, and multiple eyes. It was squawling and hissing as it thrashed, its jaws snapping with the sound of a steel trap. And with each thrash it made its way a little further into the train.

"Jesse!!" I screamed. "Jesse, run!!"

But more screaming suddenly sounded behind me. I turned around in time to see six or seven more leap over the train and charge towards the others. And yet another twisted down from the roof and sprang through the doorway into the train. Now I screamed, for though two more people went running out of the train behind it, the little beast turned right towards me.

"Joe!" I shrieked. He was still standing outside the train, seemingly frozen in shock. "Joe, help us!!"

The creature between us seemed momentarily distracted, as if it did not know whether to go for me or for Joe. Joe stared at it, transfixed with fear, for several heart-pounding seconds.

And then, he gave a yell of fright, turned, and went bolting for the exit.

We had been abandoned.


	6. We're saved!

I was momentarily in shock at Joe's abandonment. I was nearly hyperventilating, tears streaming down my face. The second creature squawled and lunged for me, but I shrieked and ducked, and it overshot and landed on the bench behind me.

There was an empty wine bottle on the floor, dropped and spilled possibly during the initial evacuation. I grabbed it by the neck and swung it around, beating at the attacking creature as hard as I could. I was screaming in terror and sobbing at the same time, my strikes barely hurting it. It snapped and clawed at me, jumping from seat to seat as I stumbled backwards. In absolute desperation, I swung the bottle for the side of the creature's head, and it shattered on impact. The creature fell to one side in the resulting rain of glass, hissing and kicking its legs.

And suddenly, Jesse was there, trying to stomp on the fallen creature as it lay struggling. The one trying to squeeze through the window was now stuck, unable to pull itself in or out.

"Jesse, no!!" I screamed, but it was too late.

Jesse was not strong enough to properly injure the creature. It managed to scramble to its feet and pounce on her, and I screamed as those long teeth sank into the flesh of Jesse's right thigh. Jesse shrieked in agony and fell onto her back. The creature struggled and thrashed, its clawed feet tearing into every part of Jesse's body it could reach.

I ran forward, desperate to save her. The broken bottle was still in my hand. I brought it down, the sharp broken end sinking deep into the creature's side. The creature shrieked and released Jesse, thrashing around in pain. I jumped over it and grabbed Jesse's arm, yanking her to her feet.

Despite the copiously bleeding wounds, Jesse ran just as fast as I did. The station was deserted as we bolted for the exit. The people and the rest of the creatures were nowhere to be seen. I could still hear the two in the train shrieking as we scrambled up the stairs and back out onto the street. The only evidence I could see of anyone else as I looked around frantically was a running figure vanishing around a distant corner.

"Son of a bitch!!" I shrieked. "Come on, Jesse!"

I wanted to run, to get as far away from the station as possible. But Jesse was bleeding badly. I knew she wasn't going to make it far. Panicking, I hauled her across the intersection and into the lobby of a low office building. The multi-car crash was still piled in the middle, but the fire was almost dead. Still, enough light from the last burning car flickered through the dusty windows to illuminate the front part of the lobby. Emergency lights shone further in, enough to reassure me that the building was deserted--both in humans and the biting crab-things.

Jesse collapsed onto a padded chair, moaning in pain. I crouched down in front of her, examining her wounds. She had several deep cuts from the creature's claws all over her legs, belly, and arms, but the worst of it was the bite mark. Blood still dribbled from the wounds left by each tooth, but it was slowish and thick. I did not know much about injuries or how to care for them, but I wasn't seeing any giant spurt of blood that meant an artery had been cut.

"It'll be okay, Jesse," I kept saying, gripping her hands. "I just need to find...a bandage...or something."

I stood up and started to walk towards the reception desk. But Jesse cried out, and I immediately returned to her. Her face was pale grey, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

"Don't leave me!" she wailed, gasping for breath. "Sheba, please! Don't leave me!"

"I won't!" I replied, and my voice held the same level of panic. "I'm just going over to that desk to find something to wrap your leg. I will be in sight all the time, and I will be right back." I gripped her hands again, raising them to my mouth to kiss her knuckles. "Okay?"

Jesse nodded slightly, her eyes still wide. I released her hands and turned again, jogging quickly to the desk. I heard Jesse whimper as I moved around it and started yanking open drawers, but for once I ignored her. I was moving as fast as I could, but it was difficult to focus because my hands were shaking so badly. I didn't find anything useful to wrap her leg with, but after about a minute I uncovered a pair of scissors.

I ran back to Jesse with the scissors. Once I had reached her again, I kicked off my shoes and then pulled off my jeans. Jesse stared at me as I started to hack at them with the scissors, cutting off the legs. It was hard work; the scissors were not sharp enough to cut easily through the thick denim. But after about ten minutes I succeeded in cutting off one of the legs. I pulled it inside out and wrapped it around Jesse's leg.

"There," I said breathlessly. "Just press down on this, Jesse. I'll cut another layer for it."

The second leg came off easier than the first, and soon Jesse's wounds were firmly bandaged in the denim. I put my pair of newly created shorts and my shoes back on, and sat down on the floor at her feet.

"Sheba...what are we going to do?" Jesse whispered. She sounded too tired to speak any louder. "We...we have to get out of here."

"I know," I replied, rubbing her hands. "We have to wait for the military. We can't walk, and there's no car anywhere nearby that isn't destroyed."

"I can walk." Jesse tried to stand, but I held her down. "Sheba, I can..."

"No, you can't," I replied firmly. "Jesse, you have to stay off your feet. If it comes to it, I'll carry you on my back. But we should be safe here for now. We can see everything that's coming from here."

Through the dirty window, an abrupt flash of orange flickered. An explosion somewhere to the south, though the only sound that reached us was a dull rumble, like thunder. I sighed. We were stuck here, with our only hope being some sort of military escort. But nothing even hinting at military had yet appeared. What if they didn't come? How would I be able to get Jesse out? She badly needed medical attention.

Silence fell between us. Never had I heard the city so quiet. Even the rumbles of whatever was happening down to the south was barely audible.

And then I heard it. A sound that made me sit up and open my eyes wide with shock. A steady clop-clop-clop. I stood and walked over to the nearest window, which looked out onto 7th Avenue just beyond the intersection. And as I watched, mouth agape, a white object walked steadily into view.

"Oh my god!" I shouted, startling Jesse. "I can't believe it! Jesse, come on!"

I grabbed Jesse's arms and pulled her upright, draping her arm over my shoulders. She protested as I helped her towards the door, but she stopped when I rounded the corner and showed her what was coming.

"Mayflower!"

The plump white horse still had the feather between his ears, and the carriage he pulled behind him was undamaged. The cars in the intersection had caused him to stop, so he turned his head and looked at us as we approached.

"Where's Pedro?" Jesse asked, looking around as I helped her to the carriage.

"I don't know," I replied. I had noticed that Mayflower was completely alone. "But we can't look for him. I have to get you some help." I boosted Jesse into the carriage, where she settled onto the cushions looking much more calm, though she had yet to return color to her skin. "We can only hope he got out okay."

I had no earthly idea how to drive a carriage horse. But that did not stop me from climbing into the front chair and picking up Mayflower's reins. The horse flicked his ears back at me.

"Bear with me, boy," I said to him, almost giddy with relief at having a means of transportation. "I've never done this before."

I carefully steered the carriage around the wrecks, and let Mayflower go on at a brisk walk down 7th Avenue. I had no intention of going any further south, but it was still 54th Street before I could find a clear place to turn west.

"Which way are we going?" Jesse asked.

"The 59th Street Bridge," I replied with determination. "Even if the bridge was destroyed like the Brooklyn, there has to be someone there who can help you."

The streets remained deserted as I guided the carriage further down 54th Street. A single car zoomed passed right before we reached Avenue of the Americas, startling Mayflower slightly, but he did not react any more than taking a few steps backward. I halted him again as soon as I could see up and down the street, but I could see nothing threatening.

"Sheba...where are we going?" Jesse asked again.

For the first time, I turned around and looked at her. She was lying on the seat of the carriage where I had left her, and her face was now flushed. Dark purple bruises were forming underneath her eyes. Her breathing had become more strained, and sweat was running down the sides of her face. I stared at her, instantly terrified for her. She was going downhill fast.

"I am...alright," Jesse breathed, her eyes half-closed. "But which way...are you going...to go? To get to the...bridge?"

"I'm hoping Park Avenue is clear," I replied. "The buildings don't look as damaged going this way."

"Okay..."

Jesse sighed, and I distinctly heard a gurgle in her voice. I bit my lip and forced myself to turn away. I whipped the reins, and Mayflower broke into a trot. We crossed Avenue of the Americas and kept going. The way seemed clear. There was movement in the distance, and bright lights. And as I watched, a flash of red sirens.

Explosions sounded behind us. Mayflower balked and broke into a gallop, and the carriage started trembling and bouncing as it ran over the rough street. I pulled on the reins as hard as I could, screaming in fright. Behind me, Jesse let out a cry of pain.

It was to our fortune that the horse was tired. His frightened gallop lasted only a block, and then he slowed down again. I pulled him up and turned back around. Fire filled the air several blocks behind us. And, just dimly, the towering form of the creature.

"Jesus," I cursed. "God, I hope it doesn't turn." I whipped the reins again, now half-wishing Mayflower would go back to galloping. "Please, please, please let there be a way out..."

My heart was pounding in my ears, keeping tempo with the horse's hooves clacking against the asphalt. The intersection with 5th Avenue passed without pause. The streetlights were still working, and we were on red, but there was no moving traffic.

We were halfway to the intersection with Madison Avenue when I saw it. Park Avenue. And a line of military Humvees and tanks. Their engines roared, and voices sounded over bullhorns. I pulled Mayflower to a walk, laughing in sheer delight.

"Jesse, there they are! The military!" I cried, tears of joy trickling down my face. "We're saved, Jesse! We're saved!"

"Sheba..."

Her voice was not one of joy and relief. The way she said my name was one of agony. I turned in my seat, my eyes once more looking upon her beautiful face.

But her face was not beautiful anymore. The bruises beneath her eyes were black, her cheeks sunken and colorless. Her eyes were unfocused and dilated. Blood dripped from her ears, nose, and the corners of her eyes. She had sat up, but her head rocked slightly from side to side. She gave a shuttering, shaky cough, and a mouthful of blood splattered down her chin.

"Jesse?" I whimpered weakly. "Jesse, are you okay?"

"Sheba..."

Jesse stared at me, her mouth opening slightly. She coughed again, and another rush of blood dribbled out.

"Sheba...I think something's wrong with me..."


	7. The ending

The next concrete thing I remember is hearing voices. Loud voices, all around me. Some further away, some coming closer. One or two right next to me. Voices, shouting for me to get up and move.

My world had come to an end. And even several minutes afterward, I was still staring at the blank, lifeless face of my dearest love. Even several minutes later, I was waiting for her to magically spring back together again, sit up, and tell me it was all a joke. I was waiting to hear her beautiful voice.

But it was over. She was gone. My Jesse, my love...was dead.

I had climbed into the carriage when I had finally found strength in my muscles to move. I had sat down beside her slumped form, laid my head upon her silent chest, and stared up into the empty, glassy eyes. The colorless face. I could not bring myself to look anywhere else. I did not feel the warm blood I sat in, soaking into my clothes, or see the horrible mess that now splattered everything that had been in front of her, including me.

I had completely forgotten Mayflower. I didn't care anymore. I didn't even feel it when, after several minutes, he started walking by himself again. I didn't notice that the commotion I had heard before was growing louder, or that the lights had grown brighter.

The voices surrounded me. The lights were almost blinding. And somewhere nearby, an army of engines roared. Explosions echoed in the distance. A faint, but piercing metallic scream.

"Ma'am? Ma'am! Are you injured?"

Hands settled on my shoulders, shaking me. A flashlight shone in my eyes. Dimly, I registered faces, my unfocused gaze being manually moved back and forth as I was jostled. But I remained catatonic, unable and unwilling to move. I didn't care anymore. All I wanted was to lie there and die too.

But at long last, feeling returned to my limbs, and my consciousness reasserted itself. Mostly because those same hands had grabbed me again, and was attempting to lift me out of the carriage.

"NO!" I screamed, the world snapping into sharp focus as I kicked and struggled. "No! I won't leave Jesse!"

"Ma'am, calm yourself!" a deep, authoritative voice shouted. "I have orders to evacuate every civilian found."

"Your friend is dead. You can't do anything else for her now."

Despite my struggles, I was pulled away from Jesse, out of the carriage, and set down on my feet. I looked up and stared into the severe faces of the stern men holding me. Both were wearing military combat uniforms and held large guns in their free hands. One had a microphone attached to his helmet.

"Take her to the choppers," the man on my right said to the other. "And hurry! That thing's going to be here any second."

The man on my left tightened his hold and started pulling me towards one of the Humvees. I looked back, tears streaming from my face as the view of Jesse's body was blocked by the soldiers. They were cutting Mayflower free of his harness, but nobody was doing anything to Jesse.

"Jesse!" I screamed again, but at that moment I was grabbed by the waist and shoved into the backseat waiting Humvee. The soldier buckled my seatbelt, and then slammed the door in my face.

"Move!" he shouted to the driver as he jumped into the front. A massive explosion echoed behind us as he shut his door.

I was rocked back and forth as the Humvee started off. It drove by the carriage, but Jesse's body was in view for only a second before everything was left behind us. I pressed my palm to the window, the tears now falling silently. I was losing strength again, losing the ability to care about where I was, or that I had been rescued. The creature was visible in the distance, coming closer as it started moving in the direction we were headed.

"Damn it!" the driver shouted. "If that thing reaches the evac point, we're all screwed."

"There's only three or four flights left," the other soldier said.

There was silence for a few seconds as the driver swerved around debris. My forehead smacked against the window, but I didn't notice the pain.

"What are they doing with that horse?" the driver suddenly asked.

"Turning it loose," the other replied. "Doubt it'll survive, but it has more of a chance now."

I gritted my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut. I didn't want to hear it anymore. I couldn't stand it that they were more worried about Mayflower than Jesse. I tried to hold back a sob, but it escaped anyway, sharp and strained. The soldiers weren't paying attention. One of them suddenly cursed.

"It's catching up!" the driver shouted. "Shit, it's right there!!"

The same metallic scream echoed, making the entire Humvee shake. We were roaring closer to more lights, and I could hear the drum of helicopter blades.

I was thrown against my seatbelt as the driver slammed on the brakes. Two seconds later, the other soldier was ripping open my door. He unbuckled my seatbelt and dragged me out. Despite myself, I looked around again as he started pulling me forward. I could see it now, more close than it had ever been before. It looked to be right over Grand Central Station. Rockets were exploding against its hide, but not affecting it at all.

"Get her in!" the soldier suddenly shouted.

More hands grabbed me. I turned back to see I was being led towards a helicopter sitting in the middle of what looked like a makeshift helipad. Concrete barriers formed a ring right in the middle of the intersection. Soldiers, tanks, and Humvees were everywhere, a chaos that yet still had some sense of order. The soldiers were calm as they led me forward. The helicopter had its blades at near full speed, ready to lift off at a second's notice.

I cooperated with them, climbing into the helicopter and sitting down on the seat they pointed out. Another soldier strapped me in. There were two others sitting near me, but I did not look at them. I kept my head bowed, my eyes shut, trying to block out the noise around me.

Shouts echoed from the open helicopter door. More people were being led forward. A young woman was helped in, taking the seat next to me, the last available one.

"You're on the next chopper!" I heard someone shout.

The helicopter door was slammed shut. I heard the girl next to me shouting, but her words were drowned in the scream of the engine. I felt the helicopter lift off, gaining altitude fast as it turned and started away. The explosions, shouts, and screams died as the city fell away beneath us.

For a moment, nobody spoke. Everyone sat in their seats, gasping for breath. The girl next to me had slumped against her restraints, much like myself, and like me had tears running down her face. Despite myself, I turned to look at her more fully. Her clothes were blackened and tattered, but she wasn't splattered in blood like I was.

The girl noticed me looking at her, and turned to me.

"They'll be on the next chopper," she said dully. "They'll be alright."

Something about a bombing run echoed from the radio in the cockpit, but I ignored it. I gave the girl a dull, defeated look, and I saw her gaze travel over the copious bloodstains across my face, arms and clothes.

"You keep thinking that," I said softly. "Someone should."

The girl stared at me for a long moment.

"I never thought something like this could happen..." she whispered.

I returned her gaze, but in the end, I said nothing else. The helicopter carried us out of Manhattan, to a makeshift base somewhere in New Jersey.

I don't remember much else after that. The military took everyone they evacuated by that chopper and processed us, getting names and information and a medical checkup before turning us over to the Red Cross to try and reunite us with family or friends. They took me aside and kept me longer, the military doctors fearing all the blood on me was my own. But they eventually let me go too.

The Red Cross took me to a shelter set up in a community center along with a group of about thirty others. I don't remember anything about the stay in the shelter. I only know I wasn't there for very long. I didn't try to find out anything in that time; my life was already over. I just laid in a cot, ignoring everyone, my mind filled with memories of Jesse.

I only came back to myself when I heard someone speaking my name.

"Sheba?"

It was Jesse's uncle that had found me. As I later found out, he had been in New Jersey on business that day, and so had avoided the disaster. He had been searching every shelter in New Jersey, searching for news of his partner and Jesse. And seeing me, lying there alone, had told him everything.

Jesse's body was never recovered. It was destroyed, like almost everything else, during the final bombing run that had leveled Manhattan. I stayed with Jesse's uncle, sharing in his mutual grief. To this day he has not discovered what happened to his partner.

So that's it. That's what happened. To everyone else who lost friends and loved ones that night...well, you aren't alone. And I'm sorry if this sounds selfish, but I don't care any more than that.

I survived Cloverfield.

The greatest woman in the world did not.

That's all I have to say.


End file.
